I had an appointment with the brick mason at our house today. Is it redundant to write brick mason? Should it just be mason? Hmm, I suppose there are concrete masons, right? So brick mason would not be redundant.

I talk to myself in real life, and apparently now, I blog to myself. This is getting serious, people.

Where was I? Oh yes, driving to the new house.

From the backseat, Liberty pipes up in a voice of sincere regret, "Mommy, I'm very sorry that I was playing tiger, and I went into the house, and I said I was going to the bathroom, and I went to the kitchen, and I needed some tiger food, and I got a chair, and I couldn't reach anymore, and I climbed on the table, and my claws were too sharp, and I poured too much cinnamon, and it was spicy in my mouth, and I licked the top of it, and I had to wipe my tongue off, and it is still burning spicy in my mouth, and I'm very sorry for that, Mommy. Will you please forgive me?"

I stared through the windshield trying to process all that and wondering what kind of mess I would face in the kitchen once we returned home.

"S-s-sure, I forgive you."